


The Brother I never allowed myself to have

by Vampykitty_kun



Series: Sons of the Bat [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Bat Family, Brother Feels, Jealousy, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampykitty_kun/pseuds/Vampykitty_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, Dick regretted being – well, such a dick. Perhaps he shouldn't have taken out his anger on Jason as he often had. Maybe then things wouldn't be so rocky in the present, and most of their encounters wouldn't end in vicious words or bloodshed. Most of all, he regretted never letting that lonely conflicted boy into his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brother I never allowed myself to have

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be part 2 rather than part 4, but I never got around to completing it. Thankfully, none of these stories are in any particular order, so it works.
> 
> No pairings.
> 
> No warnings except maybe implied past horrors on Jason's end.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dick had initially disliked Jason. Yes, disliked. He had never hated the boy. Hate was such a strong word, and a term he could really only apply to the inmates of Arkham Asylum he and Bruce had put away over the years and the scum that littered Gotham's underworld after dark that they had yet to capture… or somehow managed to repeatedly escape Arkham's walls.

Initially, he had felt betrayed. Bruce had been like a father to him since his parents' deaths. He had fought alongside him for years as an ally, a partner. He had had a warm loving home with Alfred as a Den mother, and a large soft bed to sleep in at night. Then, Bruce and him had their fall out, and that all had changed. He struck out on his own. He left the manor, left the days of being 'Robin The Boy Wonder' behind, and took up the mantle of Nightwing thanks to a helpful pep talk from the Man of Steel himself. He had expected – wanted, Bruce to come find him, demand that he stop his nonsense and come home. He had wanted Bruce to accept him as Nightwing, as a true partner, and equal. But instead, Bruce had given him his space. He let him run the rooftops as Nightwing. Let him escape to Blüdhaven, living in a shabby apartment on a top floor. Bruce had let him down, and in a way, he had let himself down too.

Jason's arrival had left him with the feeling of being kicked while already down. He could see himself being replaced the moment he had seen the boy. He had felt betrayed that Barbara had not told him. Another young kid… another orphan… another parental death that hit close to home with Bruce, this time presumably caused by former Gotham District Attorney, Harvey Dent – Two Face. The similarities were something Bruce had to have realized.

Except this time, the boy was nothing special, at least by their standards. HE had been born an acrobat. It was in his blood, in his heart, and in his soul. Life traveling with Haly's had fed his fire. Acrobatics, knife throwing, speed, incredible hearing, and eyes like a hawk. It was almost as though Dick had been groomed for crime fighting. Dick wasn't bragging. Not at all, he was simply giving facts. He came into Bruce's world already born a 'Robin.' He was THE Robin. The name had always been his, never Bruce's to hand out at will.

Jason had been born and raised in crime alley. His mother (or Step mother as they would later find out) had been an addict and sick, his father little more than a common criminal, and presumably died like one. That knowledge alone should have been a warning sign for Bruce. He should have known that this child would not be even remotely like him. He would not be a kind, loving, happy-go-lucky son out of habit and gratitude. Bruce would have to earn the child's respect and trust, if he was even capable of trusting unlike so many others who are taken off the streets in the most normal of cities. Jason would not be an obedient little Robin – it had hurt that Bruce had given the boy HIS name, HIS colors. He would not be forgiving to the criminals, he would not be gentle, and he would not be naturally merciful. Even Alfred knew Bruce would be fighting a losing battle. Jason was not an innocent little boy. Crime alley was hell, and he had been living in its very streets, getting by doing god only knows what. Dick tried not to think about it. After all, he had seen Gotham at its worse, and the thought of a child being at its mercy was a nightmare. Attempting to steal the Batmobile's wheels was admittedly the best thing that could have happened to him. There was no denying that. In any case, Bruce would not have let him fall back onto the streets, but had he really needed to take him in himself? Bruce had initially placed him in a school for troubled children (which admittedly had turned out to be a mistake as the 'school' had been nothing more than a recruitment center), but he had later gone and retrieved him. Had he needed to expose him to their own dark world? Bruce would argue that making Jason Robin was the only thing saving him from becoming just as bad as the criminals around them. Dick had always thought that exposing him to the world's true horrors on a nightly basis would probably harden his heart more, and it had.

He disliked the boy even before he had officially taken his place at Bruce's side. He could tell Jason knew of his dislike the first night the duo had crossed his path. Looking back, Dick regretted being – well, such a dick. Perhaps he shouldn't have taken out his anger on him as he often had. Maybe then things wouldn't be so rocky in the present, and most of their encounters wouldn't end in vicious words or bloodshed.

Things had stayed strained between him and Bruce for a long time. His interaction with young Jason had been limited as a result, but they had had their moments, the good and the bad. As he had predicted, Jason challenged Bruce's authority constantly. He was violent with criminals at times. He was smug, untrusting, and brash. Yet at the same time he was lonely, depressive, and practically craving attention and praise. He was reckless during missions, and self-destructive outside of them. Dick had caught him numerous times slacking off on patrol, curled up on a rooftop or in the crevasse of a building staring off into space, or smoking a cigarette. A handful of times he had even caught the boy drinking, in which confrontations always ended… poorly, to say the least. It seemed that whenever the youth had nothing to do but think, his resolve crumbled and the sense of worthlessness settled in. He had given up on stopping the boy's bad habits quickly, Jason only became violent and defensive when he pressed the issues too hard. He suspected that Bruce never gave up, and likely knew of other habits that Dick himself was not aware of, nor really wanted to be.

Dick found himself constantly frustrated with the boy. He had never been sure if his anxiety was from being replaced, the hell Jason put Bruce through, or if he had genuinely be concerned for the boy's wellbeing. It had been a rough, awkward time for the bat family as a whole during Jason's run, and he had never had the time to fully get to know the young boy like he should have. He had been too preoccupied with his conflicting emotions over Bruce, and his missions with the Titans, and before he had realized it, it was too late.

The night he had gotten the call, he had been on stakeout with Wally. Nothing had affected him so strongly when Jason had been killed, not since the death of his own parents. But as upset as he had been, he hadn't been able to bring himself to attend the funeral. He had known right away that seeing that casket would make things all too real for him, and seeing Bruce in the emotional state he would likely be in would have crumbled his resolve. Looking back, even now, he had always regretted that decision. Visiting the boy's grave once a week for months - careful to avoid Bruce, hadn't eased his guilt one bit. Then before he knew it, had had gotten caught up in Tim.

When Jason had returned, he had wanted so much to make things right. But the conflicted boy had become an angry young man in the process of returning to the living, and had tried his damnedest to alienate all of them, by any means necessary. But still, even after he had gone out of his way to attack each of them, given all of them scars to constantly remind them of him and his 'hate', Dick was unable to hate him, unable to give up on him.

Even now as Jason plowed through the night as Red Hood, Dick could still see that conflicted little boy who had experienced all too much. Jason was still lonely and depressive, regretful despite his reluctance to show it.

Dick still shadowed him on some nights, careful to avoid detection. And just like all those years ago, Jason still sometimes found himself slumped in the shadows, or dangling his legs off a rooftop brooding, hood discarded, cigarette hanging from his lips, and a bottle of cheap liquor at his side. On those nights Dick just sat there quietly and watched the brother he never allowed himself to have curl in on himself as his mind got the best of him.

And should someone decide at some point to make Hood an easy target on those heartbreaking nights, Dick wouldn't hesitate at all to jump into the fray and protect that lost Robin staggering on his feet, nor would he have any qualms about carrying the man home afterwards if need be, even if it wasn't the home Dick would truly like to bring him back to.


End file.
